Food and Drink

July 15, 2015

Do you have a morning routine? Maybe your routine is to go to Starbucks each morning before work. Or maybe your routine is to stop by Caribou, Tim Hortons or Dunkin’ Donuts. One of the places I have enjoyed going the past few months to get my coffee fix is a convenience store called Kum & Go. I love their stores, I like their staff and their coffee has become a staple.

About 18 months ago or so on a workday, my husband and I entered the Kum & Go store together. It was not our best morning. As we entered the store, one of the associates I’ll call “Jane” greeted us with a hearty “good morning.” I mumbled “Peace” and the Kum & Go associate readily quipped “Love.” Since then, we have been greeted with an energetic “Peace and Love” welcome. It has become something I look forward to – a day brightener for sure.

One morning not long ago, another customer of the store asked me “Did she just call you Peace and Love?”

He asked me why he didn’t get greeted in that same manner. I said, “Well, you’ll have to ask Jane for her take on that.” He uttered “Hmph!”

A couple of weeks ago, I found out that the Peace and Love Purveyor is transferring to another Kum & Go location about 750 miles away. I will miss her. I have gotten to know her a bit and know that she loves Eminem. Last night as I was penning her going away card, I wrote:

Dear Jane,

Our Favorite Peace and Love fan has flat done gone and went. In Eminem clean language, How Come? LOL. I will surely miss you until we are crazy enough to drive 12 hours to see you again. Wishing you continued success and thank you for always being so nice to us.

Peace and Love

And just for kicks, we tucked in a Kum & Go gift card for our Peace and Love pal.

Who are the people in your life that you count on as day brighteners? I hope that Kum & Go realizes what a wonderful and valuable employee they have in Day Brightener Jane!

November 27, 2014

Flying home from Charleston last evening, the stranger next to me asked me what I did for a living. I told her and we talked about our careers for a bit. The conversation moved from occupations to Thanksgiving. I told the stranger the following story as it was fresh in my head and in my heart.

Once upon a time last Saturday, a handful of people – mostly Millennials except for me, the lone Baby Boomer, traveled to a house in rural South Carolina. A house that was falling apart. A house that had a screened in front porch minus the screens. A house with broken windows and doors. A house that some would have condemned long ago. A dilapidated house that was home to seven people…six children I’m guessing between the ages of five and 13, their loving grandmother and one pit bull. A house with holes in the walls from being kicked out or punched out for one reason or another. A house that was filled with debris, dog feces, dirty clothing, cockroaches, stench, filth, laughter and love. The grandmother was in a robe – it was about 10:00 A.M. when we arrived. The care project was divided into work that needed done immediately.

Clean the pantry shelves, remove debris and put new boards on the shelving.

Fix the holes in the walls and closets by installing new drywall.

Paint walls.

Fix roof.

Install new screens on the front porch.

Hang new blinds in all the windows of the house.

Clean – everything and everywhere.

Throw out junk and debris.

The task I was initially assigned was to help clean the pantry area and get it into a condition where the family would know what food they had – or didn’t – and provide some semblance of organization. Once that task was completed, I was then asked to go into the grandmother’s room to clear a path so the new blinds could be installed.

I enlisted the help of one of the boys – for the sake of this post, I’ll call him Sport – he told me he liked sports and rattled off his favorite teams. I asked him if he had ever heard of the state of Iowa or The University of Iowa Hawkeyes – nope, he had not. I thanked him for his honesty and for not confusing Iowa with Ohio or Idaho. Our work together continued. He picked up garbage about two feet deep along side of the bed and tossed it into the large black sack I was holding, then we traded tasks. I would sweep, scoop and dump as he held the sack. We found a pretty bracelet, a one dollar bill, Winnie the Pooh and assorted children’s books, among other things.

As we worked together, we chatted. Sport and I hauled the first of many sacks of garbage out through the yard. I told him I was afraid of the pit bull and he told me not to be. I asked him to walk with me and be my protector – and he did. I held onto Sport’s arm while we passed by the pit bull. As we walked back to the porch to continue our project, I said, “Sport, let’s assess – let’s assess our work so far – yes, let’s make an assessment.” He asked me what assess and assessment meant. I said, “you know at school, Sport, when you take a test. Well, that is an assessment of what you have learned – a review of what you have learned I guess you could say.”

Sport laughed – he thought it was cool to say assess and assessment. “Let’s make an assessment” he stated. And we did. We assessed that we had completed the task of clearing the debris by the bed and that we were ready to do something else of the cleaning variety.

Early afternoon, it was time to go. Sport wanted to know if I would be coming back. I told him I was heading home to Iowa soon and would not be back. As I walked towards the car, I turned to see Sport as he tossed his football in the air. He was smiling. I waved goodbye and my eyes filled with tears. Assess. Assess. Assess – no crying!

This Thanksgiving, I am keeping Grandma in the Red Robe, Sport and his brothers and sisters in my thoughts. I am thankful for them. And I think of them. I wonder what Sport is doing now?

I went to Charleston to hang out with family, to see the sites, to shop, to dine and to do the town. While that was fun and fine, what I left with is a story about what matters. A story about giving + thanks. A story about thanks + giving. A story about a little boy named Sport – a story that will stick with me much longer than the Carolina Moon soap, bean soup or Beadah Licken Brownies that I bought at Boone Hall Farms Market. What I came home with is an even deeper sense of gratitude for family, friendships and things that truly matter in life. What I came home with is a story about a little boy with a football, a dust pan and a broom who taught me a thing or three about what’s important and what’s not.

February 06, 2014

On Bellaire Boulevard in Houston, Texas there dwells one of the best bakeries on the planet: Moeller’s Bakery. My favorite item there: orange rolls. You know how you can buy orange rolls in a little tube at the grocery, plop ‘em in the pan and bake for a few minutes and voilà, orange rolls? Or, you can buy Moeller’s – if you are so inclined -- when in Houston.

Given that I was not in Houston last Super Bowl Sunday, and given that my interest in the Super Bowl is more about the ads than the game, I decided to make a special treat for our Super Bowl party: orange rolls from scratch – the kind that requires y e a s t! In my whole life, I have made nothing from yeast. Yeast what? For those of you who are cooks, chefs and bakers, this is no big deal for you. For me, making something from yeast was HUGE!

My first dilemma (opportunity) was to find the easiestorange roll recipe available on line. I Googled “easy orange roll recipes” and found one at Sally’s Baking Addiction. I started the yeast process at 12:25 P.M. and served my first-ever-made-from-scratch orange rolls somewhere along after Bruno Mars and Red Hot Chili Peppers hit the stage. All the while I was creating orange rolls, I was thinking about job seekers and job search. Do this; don’t do that; try this; don’t try that. Transition is a process. Making orange rolls is a process. Don’t screw up the recipe. Don’t take shortcuts. Follow directions. Don’t leave something out. Don’t get impatient – yeast takes a while to rise. Don’t turn up the heat too much on the rolls; you’ll burn them. When you roll out the dough after it rises, make sure to measure it so you’ll get the best result. Measure this; track that.

Are you measuring your job search results? What recipe are you following? Do you have all of the necessary ingredients on hand, whether you are baking orange rolls or building an effective job search strategy? Are you staying motivated to do something you have never done before? Are you willing to learn as you go about what works and what doesn’t in your new adventure? Are you going to get flustered and quit or will you keep at it until you get from nothing to something?

While the end result of my first orange roll making expedition was not a total gooey, fluffy and dripping with orange glaze pièce de résistance, I no longer fear yeast and I know much more about orange roll making than I did. I know that next time, my efforts will have a chance of being even more successful than this first go. And here’s how I know; I took one of my orange rolls to a veteran baker – a master! She told me what I had done well; she also taught me what I could do differently for better results. As I walked away with my dissected orange roll in hand, I thanked her and thought: She bakes; I counsel – two professionals with a passion for continuous improvement – be it orange rolls or job search goals.

June 09, 2011

The young woman in her early 20’s accompanied by her baby boomer mother and grandmother knocked at the home of an elderly lady, a lady she had never met before in her life. The lady came to the door and the young woman said, "I came by to tell you that your son used to be my cab driver. I am sorry he is gone – he was always so nice to me."

You could see the tears growing in the elderly woman’s eyes…."please come in" she signaled. The young woman, mother and grandmother all entered and took a seat in the living room.

"So you knew my son," the woman inquired?

"Yes, I can only drive to my job from March to November – I’m not supposed to drive in the bad weather. I am special needs. That’s why I would take the cab and that’s how I met your son."

"Did you know your son always made sure I got to work on time?"

"Did you know your son was always nice to me?"

"Did you know your son always made me laugh?"

"He sure knew how to talk a lot – and he was really funny."

"And he would always park in the driveway and call me on my cell phone to let me know he was here waiting for me."

Her son, a highly successful sales executive had retired early and for something to do, had started driving a cab to ‘pass some time.’ Turns out, she said to the young woman, he told me it was "the best job he ever had." The elderly woman spoke lovingly about "her boy" she had lost in the Fall of 2010.

"You know what he loved?" said the elderly woman to the young one -- he loved brownies! "in fact, this week-end, I will be baking some nine dozen of them to share with the guys he used to play football with and some of his fraternity brothers who are coming in to town this week-end for a golf tournament. Nine dozen. Going to be baking them tomorrow."

The baby boomer mother of the young woman wondered aloud "Is this a secret recipe or something you can pass along?" Together, they all went to the kitchen and line by line, the recipe was dictated and re-recorded on a new index card:

~ Beat by hand – one at a time: 5 eggs (be sure to do this part just like it says)

~ Add: 1 ½ C. flour

~ Add 1 tsp. salt

~ Add 1 tsp. vanilla

~ Nuts: optional

Put in jelly roll pan. "Now the funny thing about this recipe is that there's no soda -- no soda! I think it must be the eggs that makes them the best....yes, it must be the eggs"....

Armed with one new recipe and one new friend, the young woman collected a hug from the Cab Driver's Mother and then announced it was time to go. Maybe she and her mother will whip up some of Cleola’s Brownies tomorrow, too.

March 29, 2011

Job seekers, pretend for a moment that you are completing an application and it states that you must complete the following question and submit it with your resume, cover letter, references, and salary history.

Here's the question:

What is your je ne sais quoi?

Yesterday, I was sharing this French word with clients based on a very interesting story I'd heard on a morning radio program. For the sake of this post, let's give this term an English translation:

~ What is 'that certain something' you have that makes your brand distinctive and attractive?

~ What is the 'indescribable quality' you possess as a job candidate?

~ What 'charm' or 'indefinable enchantment' do you possess that is simply hard to explain?

Bottom line, what might you offer in response to the employer's query? Something to think about as you consider your je ne sais quoi.

Au revoir!

P.S. Homework Exercise: To best serve you, your brand and your chances of getting hired faster, please take the time to formulate rock-solid answers to the above questions.

December 16, 2010

I love this business and I love it when clients 'get' it. Yesterday, I was working with a person who had lost her job earlier in the week. As we were discussing the subject of résumés, I invited my client to view her résumé through the eyes of a recruiter, hiring manager or human resources representative. (Amazing how one can so quickly shift into another role and view their résumé in such a different light).

I'd invite you to do the same...are you making it easy for the reader (stranger) to quickly grasp your story, your brand, your message? As we continued our 'lesson' together, I randomly asked her which part of a cake she liked better.... the cake itself, or the frosting? My client offered with great fervor: "The frosting!"

So which part do you prefer...the cake, or the frosting? I love the frosting...I consider it the very, very best part of the cake! Just like a résumé, the reader can read about all of your ingredients (functions, duties, responsibilities (yawn!) OR they can read about your wonderful successes, achievements, contributions, results, and accomplishments (yay!)-- your frosting on the cake of your résumé.

So, how about it....take a look at your résumé through the lens of a recruiter, HR pro, or hiring manager. Is your résumé loaded with frosting...or is it simply another so-so bland cake?

May 03, 2010

The frail elderly man, probably in his late 70’s or early 80’s slowly sauntered over to the 4 Toulouse car stop near the French Quarter in New Orleans. My husband and I were seated on a bench waiting for the street car as the thin, feeble man wearily approached.

In one hand was an old black tattered carrying case, a small black plastic sack, a large bottle of Mt.Dew and in the other, a golf club (maybe a wedge) that he was using as a cane. His clothes were dirty and tattered, and as he came closer, showed us a toothless smile as big as the sun. He looked directly at my husband and said... “God sure made her extra purdy, doncha’ think?” My husband nodded. Then the elderly man looked at me and smiled. I asked him his name and he said, very proudly, “My name is ‘Jackson’.”

Hello there Jackson! He then slowly leaned over and fiddled with the carrying case and ever so carefully pulled out an old trumpet, turning to my husband, once again, “Ya’ mind if I play her a song?” The musician man slowly, deliberately and mightily played ‘Ain’t She Sweet’ as we clapped our hands to the beat of the music.

The song was over and I stood up, thanking him for such a lovely rendition. ‘Jackson,’ I said “Now, I would like to ask you something: do you mind if my husband would take a picture of you and me on his cell phone camera...I would be honored if you would do so?"...

Jackson beamed and offered 'sure would be mighty fine.’ He then reached for my hand, barely kissing my fingertips and softly spoke “God bless ya’ ma’am, thank ya’ for lettin’ me play ya’ a song…I best be gittin’ along now.’

Friday afternoon, April 30, 2010, 5:23 P.M. – day three in The Big Easy.